Boston Kelley
Fayetteville, Arkansas
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Wounds On My Heart

Many arrows have pierced this heart;
streams of blood pour from the wounds.
I shake with grief at the thought
for my body cannot bear such agony.
Tear after tear falls from this mourning eye,
yet anger holds them back.
What man can bear such frustration
and not let his rage be released?
I bear the weight of the Earth on my shoulders,
but I stand somehow.
My legs ache and wobble with the crushing
weight, using every ounce they have available.
Grief attacks me on all sides, not leaving a
single spot untouched; I deflect his blackened
arrows, yet find myself struck.
A self-controlled man would fare better in the
face of such emotions; his reason would outweigh
his gruesome thoughts.
If you could find a way to survive the storm,
what awaits on the other side?
Lest the storm bring wave after wave upon me,
I will sink and drown in the sea of sadness; lest
I batter through and stay above the water, I will
find peace unimaginable.
Bring back the sun, oh cloudy sky, restore these
waves to their calm state; have pity on me or my
will shall fail.
Reason offers comfort as the agonizing conquerors
storm the land; his voice continues to whisper.
An encouraging word does it offer me, soothing
my troubled mind and healing my wounds.
Words once failed in the face of such odds; guttural
wails escaped my mouth.
Comfort me, reason, before my mind descends
into melancholy; protect me from these wretched invaders.
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